


Living Without you feels like Dying

by Baby_Fangirl



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 05:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_Fangirl/pseuds/Baby_Fangirl
Summary: I'm lost without you.Without your touch.Without your smile.Without your love.Without you.I'm lost.





	Living Without you feels like Dying

Sitting alone in the drivers’ seat of a taxi is usually a normal and everyday occurrence and shouldn’t usually spark any emotional aches or longing; nor should it start the tears welling up in Olivia’s dark and wide eyes. Sitting alone in the drivers’ seat of a taxi, gripping tightly to the wheel looks ordinary, and nobody would be able to tell that inside the yellow vehicle, a woman was hurt beyond repair.

The former librarian truly loathed feeling this way; feeling like there was a giant part of her heart and soul missing, gone, forever. It was the part of her that had been ripped away when Jacques Snicket said ‘ _goodbye_ ’… and meant it; the part of her that had been ripped away when he said ‘ _We’ll see each other agai_ n’… and did not.  The part of her that was excruciatingly torn to shreds inside of her when fate decided that they couldn’t be free to be together any longer.

Jacques Snicket was dead, and the world didn’t even stop to remember him, it just kept spinning, like nothing had happened, and Caliban felt sick that the universe would dare to go on without the volunteer... how could it? Did the world really have no respect that it couldn’t even spare a day to mourn the death of a hero?

He was her world, and now it had crumbled and fallen to pieces... into millions of shards that seemed to be piercing her heart. And she was dying without him.

A guttural sob wrenched through her throat as suddenly her vision blurred, tears clouded her dark eyes, and before long they were flowing freely, chest heaving as her hand shook violently before her trembling digits wiped away the teardrops that stained her immaculate face.

Olivia clung to the hope that her brief lover was right, that a time would dawn that they would see each other again, but it didn’t alleviate the persistent ache she felt weighing her heart like an anchor in the tide of pain when she remembered those words... the last thing that Jacques had ever said to her. And it didn’t help how lost she felt without being able to feel safe in his arms each night.

When she was a teenager, she used to idolize all the books she had read, and wish that such feelings existed; Olivia used to giggle at all of those songs about people feeling lost without the person they loved when they were gone… she hadn’t understood why someone would let themselves become so intertwined with another person that they needed them so much on a day to day basis.

She wasn’t giggling now.

It wasn’t just that the nights were lonely without Snicket and that she hadn’t spent a night alone before this in months. It wasn’t just that she missed hearing his voice talking in gentle and soothing tones over tea in the morning; although, god, she really did miss the mornings with him, waking up in his loving embrace. Whenever Olivia rolled over in bed, she was always expecting his arm to flop onto a warm body. Instead she always found cold sheets and she would force her eyes open in alarm and worry before the memories sunk in and she was forced to accept reality; the other half of the bed was empty, had been and would be for a while. It was one of the hardest parts. Waking up alone.

No, what added to the feeling of loss was how different everything around him seemed while he was gone. The spark that Jacques Snicket added to everything around him by just being himself was missing.

There was more sadness and fear than excitement when a new mission came along, new disguises and supposed thrills; instead of being on guard and a little excited to face whatever might come from it, Olivia felt a solemn stiffness.

Everything had changed in her life… but it was painful to see that everything else was the same. The grass still grew, the flowers bloomed, the stars gleamed and the sun rose and fell as it normally would, but this time it was without him...  and Olivia couldn’t do it. She’d grown so used to Jacques being by her side, that when it was all ripped away, he took the joy from her world as well.

On second thoughts… he _is_ the joy in her world... or he _was_.

Women still smiled as they walked down the streets and children played, the winds changed, and the waves crashed, it should have been normal, but Jacques still wasn’t there. And it was all wrong without him.

Without him.

A way that Caliban never expected to have to live.

She loosened her grip on the wheel to brush away the tears that stained her porcelain cheeks from the sobbing that everyone else was oblivious to.

If she tried hard enough she could still find a smell that was distinctively Jacques in his cab; and it was one of the main reasons why she would just sit… not even moving. The leather headrest smelled of his shampoo, and elsewhere was the obvious hints of cologne, chemicals, sweat, and something indescribable that was purely Snicket.

Just smelling him made all the memories come back. Another part of hers screamed that it was all he had left of him and she couldn't let that go.

Living without Jacques felt more like dying, and Olivia leant back against the seat, letting her eyes fall closed as she tried to scrape together every small detail that made the volunteers presence more believable, but she was still in agony. The agony of having her heart broken again.

This was something that had no closure or no ending. This was her spending day after day and night after night wondering if Jacques was right after all… and if she would ever see him again.

Olivia sobbed harshly, tears cascading down her cheeks rapidly with no effort to hold them back, the image contorting into a blur in front of her.  “I love you, Jacques...” Her words were broken, falling pathetically from her numb lips. Her tone was brittle, defeated, and cracking, knowing she should have told him how she felt while she’d had the chance.

And all she wanted, in that moment, was for him to see him smile at her and say, “I know,”.

Maybe one day.  
If they saw each other again.


End file.
